


C-Sharp

by cinder1013



Series: Xander Poodle [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Buffy turned into a raddish, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:44:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinder1013/pseuds/cinder1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>War comes to Sunnydale and Xander finds he likes War a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	C-Sharp

**Author's Note:**

> I do turn Buffy into a radish here and Spike implies he is going to eat the radish, but I don't count that as character death. If you're sensitive about that kind of thing, don't read any further. 
> 
> This is an old story, originally posted to the Nummy Treats list.

"You said he was here," a deep growl snapped.

"I'm looking. I'm looking. He's been through here at least."

Spike, hearing voices, quietly roused the gentleman sleeping next to him. "Shhh, someone's downstairs."

Nodding, Giles grabbed two stakes from the bedside drawer and passed one to his companion. Spike snorted contemptuously, but he didn't put it down. Slowly, down the steps they crept.

"Ah-ha! Score! He's in LA! See!" Giles flipped on the light just in time to see a spiky haired young man hold up his latest correspondence from Angel. 

"Hold it right there," Giles commanded, "or we'll…we'll…"

"Strife!" Spike rushed straight past him and embraced the young man. "I haven't seen you since Iggy played Amsterdam in 1970! How are you, man?"

"Tolerable, tolerable."

Giles threw his stake away in disgust and flopped on the couch. "Whenever you're ready, feel free to introduce me, Spike."

The godling turned to him. "You know me too, Ripper, although it's been a while." He smiled. "You don't pray to me like you used to. Why is that?"

"Strife? The Strife?" Giles fumbled for his glasses to make sure he was seeing straight.

"Yeah, man! Now that we've got all that formal shit outa' the way, where's a beer?" Strife flopped on the couch next to him. "Yer up Spike."

"Just waggle your little fingers already."

Strife smirked and did just that, making a Guinness appear in each of their hands. "Ahh, breakfast." He took a long, foamy sip. "There's nothing else like it. So, awesome to see that you've found someone, Ripster. I was worried 'bout ya for a while."

"It's just a temporary arrangement."

"Yeah, until we seduce the kid," Spike chimed in.

"We are not going to seduce the kid, as you say."

"Of course not," Spike drawled. 

"We're going to chain him to the end of the bed and pamper him like a pet poodle."

"That's my Ripper!" Strife cheered. 

Just then a pounding at the front door burst through the room. "Excuse me." Giles answered the door. Buffy, Xander, Anya and Willow spilled into the foyer.

"We think we saw a demon," Xander announced. 

"But it might have been a big dog," Willow added.

"You burst in here because of a big dog?"

"Did you bring dinner?" Spike called.

"Well, we were sorta on our way here anyway, but we got all running and winded and…" Buffy finally paused for breath.

"Happy Birthday," Willow interrupted, offering a package wrapped in a paper bag.

"Wrapped it myself," Xander chimed in.

"And what a Martha Stewart you are," Spike called from the couch. "Now, where's my dinner?"

"Ooo, a present! Open it, Ripper! Open it!" Strife called.

"Oh, uh, gang, Strife, god of mischief."

"No way!" Willow bounced up and down on her toes. "Do you like hear my prayers? Because I so, like, pray to you all the time."

"Course I do." He grinned. "I even grant 'em from time to time." He turned to Spike. "I have gotten so much more popular since the Neo-Wiccan movement. I'm totally the shit!"

"Let me get this straight, you've got the god of mischief in your living room?" Buffy asked.

"Yes, well, I know it's not standard procedure, but he was looking for something…and," Giles turned back to the pair on the couch, "what were you looking for?"

"Oh, this." Strife waved the letter. "Quote, most recently we have been graced with the presence of former watcher turned rogue demon hunter Wesley Wyndam Price the third. Told ya' he's in LA, Unc. Boy, is this Angel guy dry."

"Total Poofster," Spike agreed.

Ares appeared in a flash of light, all black leather and attitude. "Give me that!" He snatched the letter out of Strife's hand. "Where in Tartarus is the address?"

Buffy spun around on automatic and threw a stake from inside her jacket. It hit Ares square in the chest. He looked down briefly and then flicked it away like a cigarette ash. "Nice shot," he told her, and then turned her into a radish.

"Woohoo!" Spike cheered. "I haven't been this hard since Manchester United beat Chelsea!"

"Now wait a minute," Giles huffed, "that's our slayer!"

"Ripper," Strife warned.

However, the rogue watcher was not to be deterred. "You can't just come flashing in here and snapping your powers about like some kind of…of…"

"God?" Ares calmly supplied.

"…god and …oh, my… which god are you?" Giles backed up a step for good measure, being careful not to crush the radish.

"Ares."

"Greek god of war?"

"Yes, that would be me." He smiled ferally.

"Well, umm, Ares, ummm, your worship," Giles sputtered, "we do sort of live on the Hell Mouth."

"Yeah, we need a slayer," Willow chirped in.

Ares gaze raked the room and finally settled on the young man nervously shifting from foot to foot in the back. "You. You'll be the new slayer."

"Ooo, Unc, can I train him?" he leered suggestively at Xander.

"Down, Strife. Mold, train, then use until irrevocably consumed." 

"Oh, yeah, I keep forgetting about the beginning part." Strife laughed maniacally.

"Begging your pardons, Sirs, but I won't be very good as the slayer," Xander assured them. "I scream like a woman. Tell them, Anya."

"Oh, I think you're very manly," she purred.

"Anya," Xander hissed, "now is not the time."

"You don't give me enough orgasms anyway," she pouted. The young man could only groan into his hands in response.

"Buck up, soldier!" Ares roared. Xander sprang to attention, all of him that is. "Do you want to be turned into a radish?" The hulking, leather lion stalked toward him.

"No, sir!"

"Then act like it. Say, I'm the new slayer, sir."

"I'm the new slayer, sir."

"I'm the new slayer, sir!"

"I'm the new slayer, sir!"

"Now, kick down that door!" Xander kicked down the front door, making total splinters out of it to his complete amazement.

"Wow, that was so Buffy!" Willow exclaimed.

"So manly," Anya chimed in, rubbing herself all over his appropriately heaving chest.

"What about my door?" Giles complained. "I have a security deposit, you know." Ares blinked and it was back to normal.

"Should I kick it down again?" Xander asked, enthused. Hey, he'd just kicked down a door. That was so Buffy-esque.

"No, He-man. There's other things we'll have for you to do tonight," Ares leered at him. Strife probably would have joined in, except that he was busy sticking his tongue down Spike's throat.

"Hey, he's mine," Anya snarled.

"Anya, wanna be a demon again?" Ares asked with a laugh, right before winking her back to Tartarus…er, Hell. Whatever they were calling it these days.

"Ah, yes, well…" Willow slowly backed up to the door. "I can see you're all very busy and everything." She watched nervously as Giles gave up fuming and joined Spike and Strife on the couch. "Umm, bye!" She slammed the door behind her.

"Thanks, Will," Xander mumbled after her.

"Nonsense, young man," Ares purred, cupping the strong jaw in his massive paws. "We're going to have a lot of fun together, you and I." Swooping in, he kissed Xander hard, nudging the young man's lips open with his tongue and then sweeping inside. Not a lion, Xander amended in his thoughts, a mystical griffin like the one he had read about in Giles' books. "Flattering," Ares growled, "but stop thinking. It's a nasty habit."

"Yes, sir."

With a blink they disappeared, reappearing in a dark bedroom almost wholly dominated by the red satin and velvet bed of the God of War. Their clothing didn't seem to have made the trip with them, Xander barely had time to notice, before sinking into those sheets under Ares.

"I'm going to mark you as my warrior," the god was purring to him. "You have such a sweet, clever spirit." Xander arched up in response, offering his neck. White teeth bit down hard. The young slayer yelped, then moaned. Those massive paws were doing amazing things to him, pinching his nipples. Hard phalluses thrust against one another. He was there, almost there. Ares stopped. 

"Are you ready, little one?"

"Please."

"Turn over."

Xander scrambled onto his hands and knees, knowing in the back of his mind what this portended, but ignoring it. Giving into the need. The first finger, slick, warm with oil was a shock, but his yelp turned to a moan on the long, slow slide inside him. So very good to be full. He arched back against it and it brushed that special spot Anya liked to chatter about but could never seem to find. Sparks. Teeth kneading the back of his neck and a second finger. He arched into that too. It felt so full and wonderful.

"Are you ready, warrior?"

"Please, oh, God, please!"

Blunt fingers tangled in his hair and jerked his head back. "Who?" the War God growled.

"Ares!"

Ares thrust in hard, drawing a strangled cry. Sharp, frantic screams for more set the pace. The god pounded into his new warrior, reaching around to stroke him.

"Come for me, Slayer."

With a breathless scream, Xander did just that, spurting all over the blood-satin sheets, tightening on the shaft inside him. Ares followed, roaring. They collapsed together.

* * *

[Back at the condo]

"You know, now that Buffy is a radish we could fix Willow up with that Reilly guy…at least until Oz comes back," Giles mused, rubbing the spiky hair belonging to the head resting on his chest.

"Not a bad idea," Spike admitted from across the couch before passing the after-sex bong to the god in the middle.

"Munchies," Strife announced.

"Right." Spike jumped up, a sudden flare of energy. "Who's for salad?" he asked, picking up a stray radish on the way to the kitchen.


End file.
